In The End (It Doesn't Even Matter)
by Dairi
Summary: "Oliver, you...uh, dude, you need to get over here. Fast." Curtis gulped, the hand holding the phone to his ear shaking. "It's-it's Felicity, she's hurt and..." a shudding gasp was heard through the stillness of the night, "You've got to come. Now, like Right Now now..."


Uh. Sorry not sorry? You know how they say write how you feel sometimes, well... here we go. PLEASE PAY ATTENTION TO THE WARNING. This is not a happy story.

(Please don't kill me...)

For anyone interested, I will hopefully have another chapter for O&DH up by the end of next week. Sorry for the delay, but y'know, life and all that..

I got this idea put into my head when listening to the song so that is why I titled it that way, if you were wondering.

* * *

"Oliver, you...uh, dude, you need to get over here. Fast." Curtis gulped, the hand holding the phone to his ear shaking. "It's-it's Felicity, she's hurt and..." a shudding gasp was heard through the stillness of the night, "You've got to come. Now, like Right Now now..."

Not really paying attention to the not-so-hushed phone conversation going on behind her, Felicity let her mind wander.

'So, this is what dying feels like,' she thought, staring blankly up at the stars. It didn't terrify her as much as it had a year ago, or heck, even six months ago. Because she was so tired...tired of fighting, tired of not getting any sleep at night, tired of pretending she was ok. Because she was not, never would be again after that day. That choice. It was an impossible choice, she knew, but she'd still have to live with it for the rest of her life.

Now, that time limit didn't seem quite so long.

It wasn't that she actually wanted to die, far from it. She did want to live, wanted to be there for her team in the ways only she could do best - but there were others who could work the computers. Lyla could fill in temporarily until they found a suitable replacement. Hopefully Diggle would find those files she piled together, for an occasion such as this...because it wasn't as if they could hire just anyone, but she did know a few people...

Of course, the team dynamics would change. The one they called 'Mom' would no longer be there.

And Oliver... she did not want to overstate her self-importance (too much) but there was a simple fact she knew, and that was that her death was likely something he would never fully recover from. But she also knew he would survive, because that is what he was best at. He'd learn to live again, and he was young enough to perhaps even find another someone who spoke to his heart - someone to help him heal. He'd need that, and she closed her eyes with a sigh as she wished only the best for him. Better than she'd been, at any rate.

"Oh, no you don't - not yet." There was a mumble above her, and just as she was sinking into a pleasant oblivion, there was a pressure against her chest that took her breath away because - because, someone was pressing on her gaping wound and didn't they know she was a lost cause and that that pressure really, really hurt!?

Felicity's eyes snapped open on a pitful, painful inhale and she used what strength she had left to glare up at Curtis. How'd he find her, even? He wasn't supposed to be here...

Well. Talk about 'not supposed to's, it was not supposed to end like this, not supposed to happen this way. She'd only intended to talk with them, see how she could help after everything they had lost, but they had wanted more from her than words or money. Much more. They'd taken her life, instead. Curtis had chased them away once he arrived on the scene, possibly helped by the fact that some of the group appeared to have been spooked with the severity of her injuries. Too late, she could see how foolish she'd been in ever coming here to begin with.

Foolish in more ways than one, because here in her dying moments, even as Curtis tried to keep her in the here and now, her thoughts kept going back to a certain green-clad archer. She thought of Diggle, too, and how it pained her so that she would not get to say goodbye. Not get to see the Digglet grown up. But the thought of never seeing Oliver again, never speaking with, never touching, unable to see him one last time...

She didn't want to go.

Somewhere in the distance, she heard the roar of a motorcycle. She gulped back a teary gasp; everything reminded her of him, but she'd never...get to see...

* * *

After receiving the distressing call from Curtis, Oliver had practically flown from the lair and was now pushing his Ducati as well as himself to the limits, because if it was as bad as Curtis had made it out to be...

No. He couldn't think that way. She would be all right, she had to be. He would accept no other alternative. When he got there, it would all be just a silly misunderstanding.

What was she doing way out here, anyway? And alone? He had no say in what she did anymore, but didn't she know that she was still cared for, still important? That being out here in this part of town alone was dangerous? Oliver's heart thrummed painfully as he thought of her, alone and lying in pain out there somewhere...no, not alone, Curtis was with her and that was a comfort. Still. He pressed himself and his bike on harder.

The intersection Curtis had mentioned was coming into view, and if he squinted, so was...

...oh. No.

No.

Oh, God, NO.

Oliver couldn't breathe and his hands shook on the bars as he took in the amount of red. It was...everywhere. No, please. Please.

As the scene before him got larger and larger and did not change, Oliver felt a sudden pit in his chest crack open and grow, the closer he got. Within seconds, he was close enough to leap from the bike, ripping his helmet off as he went, and did not care where either item landed. Because the woman he thought he'd always consider the love of his life was bleeding out right in front of him.

And there was nothing he could do.

Breifly glancing at Curtis and the striken look on his face, Oliver fell to his knees at her side, a part of him wanting to hurl because his knees were now soaked in her lifeblood. Swallowing thickly, he leaned over and brought his hands to her face.

"Felicity? Felicity, honey, open your eyes for me please." Oliver breathed, praying she was still with them. Her cheeks were still warm beneath his hands, but for how long..?

There was a fluttering of lashes, then her beautiful blue eyes opened and connected with his. Oliver gave a small huff of a laugh that was tinged heavily with tears, but he would not waste what last precious moments they had with tears. There was time for that, later.

"Ol'ver," Felicity spoke, swallowing as a tinge of red that was no lipstick appeared on her lips. Oliver's heart felt like it was shriveling up inside and dying with this woman, because he knew...she was dying. And then she had the gall to go on and whisper, "I'm sorry."

He did not know what exactly she was apologizing for, and maybe she didn't even know, but a thought born out of desperation took over and he had a sudden burst of anger because she should be sorry - how dare she leave them like this! Leave him.

"You should be," he returned, leaning further and slipping his hands beneath her head and shoulders, pulling her into his lap. Never mind that substance was all over him, now. "Why did you do it? Felicity...why?" Her eyes had started to close, but he gave her a little shake and then asked again. Her eyes opened and she looked up at him,

"Sorry. Just...trying. Guess not...living with it, anymore." She breathed out, more red coating her lips. "Sorry...didn't mean...for you...to."

"Felicity! Don't close your eyes." Oliver hissed, shaking her again. Curtis had said he'd called for an ambulance when he'd called Oliver, too, so it should be here soon. "Help is on the way, you'll...you'll be all right." He swallowed the bitter lie just as he saw a small, half-smile on those crimson lips. She knew it was a lie, too. Anger shot through him again as he considered why she was smiling - there was nothing funny nor amusing about the situation they were currently in.

Suddenly, her hand started moving, and Oliver watched in wide-eyed fascination as it lifted, shakily, higher and higher until it landed on his face. The tips of her fingers were unnaturally cool against his heated skin, and Oliver had to fight to keep his eyes from slamming shut as his heart turned to ice and shattered within him. She was dying, and he couldn't stop it.

His eyes, his whole being, was starving for her image, any look from her that he could still get. Even like this. His eyes, slightly blurry, were glued to hers as he saw her smile one last time, a full smile. It was as beautiful as it was heartbreaking, because the striking red from her crimson smile was no make-up trick. Not that she'd ever needed make-up to look beautiful, not to him. He saw the affection she allowed her gaze to show, what she likely still felt for him, and if he had been breathing before, he sure wasn't now. Because, no. Logic or not, he wouldn't let them end like this. Another dying woman telling him she'd always loved him. He was not having it.

He shook his head, leaning down until his forehead rested on hers. "I know," he whispered. Choking on a sudden cry, he said again, eyes shut tight as he held her even closer to himself, "I know." He heard her sigh in response, but she didn't try to speak for another moment.

He could feel her hand wandering over his face, slipping down to his ear and then behind his neck. She shifted his head so that his ear was next to her lips, and then released one last breath, three words meant only for his ear on her lips.

"Fight...to live."

With that exhale, her body went limp. Oliver's body shuddered in response, and now, with a gasp, he let the tears fall. In the back of his mind, he registered sirens, loud and getting louder. But it was too late.

She was gone.

She told him to live, fight to live. He'd lost her, and he was supposed to fight to live.

Oh, he knew he'd survive. And he guessed that's why she'd said 'live' instead of 'survive,' because...after everything he lost, everything he'd been through over the years, surviving was what he did best. She knew that. He clung tighter to her body as flashing lights started to surround them, people moving around, and...well they tried to take her, but he went too. He wouldn't release her, no yet.

So. He would survive, much as it killed him to. But... how could he live, when his whole world was gone?

* * *

A/N Oh, and on a ridiculous side note, if anyone knows where I got that line about her not wanting to go from - I'll be your friend forever. ;P muahaha, ahem.  
(Favorite show other than this one)


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